


The Mustard Seed

by VenusGuided



Category: Silent Trilogy - Sues Cummings
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusGuided/pseuds/VenusGuided
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two coffeeshops next to each other, run by God and Luci respectively. One exasperated Prophet explaining how they got mixed up in this bullshit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mustard Seed

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for someone but I can't remember who.
> 
> Hover over the numbers for footnotes in real time!

A few weeks ago, my mother decided I was too bitter and cynical, so she banned me from coffee. Figure that one out. Since then, every morning and afternoon, I have to get my bean juice fix at one of Hobart’s many, many coffee shops. The problem with Hobart’s many, many coffee shops is finding one that not only has decent coffee, but isn’t drowning in hipsters, and also isn’t too far from my college.[1] There’re two across the street from college, side by side, so they were the obvious choice. One is called _hella. **[2]**_ I ruled it out for reminding me of a certain hipster band. Thus, I made the other, _The Mustard Seed_ , the headquarters of my rebellion against the Coffee Prohibition.

I regret this choice, but now I’m in too deep to change coffee shops.

I figured there was no way this name could be hipster, it was too blatant a hint at actual food. I was so wrong. Inside, it had beanbags shaped like clouds, paint peeled very deliberately away from the wall in some places, and the bricks under the plaster laid bare in others. I was gonna retreat, but then the barista recognised me — and I recognised him too.

“Hey, [REDACTED]!” Lao Yamaguchi called to me. His golden blonde hair was tied back.[3] He wore all black, except for a white apron with a logo of a winged mustard seed on it.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Only when my brother needs me to cover a shift,” Lao replied. “Casual. Casual pay rates are better, anyway.”

“Nova works here?” I couldn’t imagine Nova tolerating such hipster bullshit.

“No, my other brother, Crow.” He frowned. “Haven’t you met?”

“Nah, can’t say I’ve had the um… experience.”[4]

Then an overwhelmingly beautiful man with wavy blond hair came out from the back, scowling at Lao in a manager kinda way. “Am I only hearing gossiping out here?”

“It’s okay, Gabriel, we’re talking about how much Crow sucks,” Lao replied flatly.

Gabriel nodded. “Well. Carry on, then.”

And just like that, he wandered off.

“He really hates Crow,” Lao needlessly explained. “So, what do you want?”

Honestly, I probably would’ve gone to another coffee shop anyway if Lao hadn’t made the most perfect double shot soy caramel macchiato ever.

Next time, Lao was sitting at one of the tables doing the English homework while a white guy with hair alternating between streaks of red and black tied up in pigtails[5] lounged against the counter, talking loudly about someone every Hobartian lives in fear of; Remy Lucas.[6]

“— said something about glassing _Michael_ , can you believe, I love Remy _so much_ —”

“Stop talking,” Lao called, looking over at me. “[REDACTED], that’s Crow.”

He winked at me.

“Your nametag says Mathis Hotfire,” I observed.

“My parents have shit tastes in names,” he replied. “You should see the awful name they gave my sister.”

I could relate.

The coffee, funnily enough, tasted just as perfect when Crow made it. That really sealed the deal; I vowed to ignore the bullshit and keep going there, no matter what.

Once again I’ll remind you that I am not an intelligent person.

I got to know the staff and the regulars pretty well. Lao usually hung around even when he wasn’t working because, as it turned out, Crow would often suddenly run off with the slightest explanation. They had themed titles, like Crow was an ‘angel’ but Lao was a ‘mortal’, the managers were ‘arch-angels’, and their elusive boss was ‘The Father’. The managers (Gabriel, Michael and Uriel) didn’t seem to mind this at all. Michael looked and acted like a nightclub bouncer;[7] he was usually fairly friendly, if snobby, and was very quick to resort to violence at the slightest problem. One time I saw him grab a customer’s coffee and pour it on them, then smash the cup on their head. I don’t know what they did. Uriel, on the other hand, gave out free coffees and food at the slightest provocation, and always switched the Gotye to Ke$ha. Lao told me there were others, but they did ‘behind the scenes’ jobs.

“Crow’s sister Carmen works with them,” he added. “I’m not meant to know that, but it’s pretty obvious.”

Carmen introduced herself to me in a very creepy, very unsettling moment on one of the rare occasions I was at _The Mustard Seed_ and Lao wasn’t. She seemed to glide, not walk, as she approached. Her long, pale blonde hair fanned out as she did, as did her long dress (which was patterned with their logo).

“[REDACTED], do you know who I am?”

“Crow’s sister Carmen,” I guessed.

“That’s right.” She sat _on_ my table. Not at it. _On it_. “Tell me, how much do you know about our true purpose?”

“Serving coffee…?”

She chuckled. “That’s such a simplistic approach to it.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ve been watching you. You have a lot of potential.” She smirked. “Do you know what I do?”

“Something in the back.”

“I’m the Arch-Angel of Profits.”

“…an accountant?”

“Yeah, also Public Relations manager,” she replied in a less forced-mystical voice, before slipping back into it. “You could help to spread Our Word. I can give you the power to do so. You would be our Prophet.”

“Your profit? What? You’re gonna sell me?”

She pulled her hair back a bit so I could see her lips better. “Prophet. Of Profits.”

“I don’t think so…”

“You want the truth behind the quality of our coffee? How this culture of coffee emerged in Hobart, and Australia? This is the only way you can get it.”

“I don’t wanna know that badly.”

“Yes you do,” she said. And I did. 

“I’m still not going to do it.”

“You don’t understand, I’m not giving you an option,” she continued. “I know your secrets, [REDACTED]. I know that you…”

And well, basically, she got me. “What will I have to do?”

She smiled sweetly. “All you’ll need to do is write some things down for me. That’s all.”

“Like, a blog?”

“Yes. Like a blog.”

Like this.

She can’t make me write what she wants me to write. Not when she wasn’t specific enough.

A week later (aka today), the plot thickened again. Crow suddenly ran off again, except Lao actually asked him why.

“Arez Smythe is coming,” Crow hissed.

“So?”

“I am _not_ serving Arez Smythe, I hate him _so much_ ,”[8] Crow growled. “Lao, cover for me.”

Lao sighed, tied up his hair and grabbed Crow’s apron.

“You know, if any of us should be hiding from Arez, it should be me,” Lao grumbled as he tied it.

“You know how to handle him.”

“I do not.”

“If I have to talk to him again, I’m gonna break his neck,” Crow finally admitted. “The Father says I can’t do that, He needs him.”

“Why do you wanna kill him?” Lao groaned.

“Because of what he did to you.” Crow was already half way to the door before Lao or I could process that. “Later, losers!”

But then he walked into Arez.

“Watch where you’re _going_ , Lao’s stupid brother!” Arez shouted. He then whined, “LOUSY! YOUR STUPID BROTHER ALMOST HURT ME!”

Crow’s face was suddenly completely impassive. “Smythe, leave Lao alone while he’s working.” __

Arez shoved his way around Crow and walked over to Lao. “I wrote another song about you. You should play it. And then everyone’s hear how great I am and I’ll get a record contract and then we can both ditch this shitty country and go get married in California.”

“Uriel’s in charge of music,” Lao sighed. “I mean. The Arch-Angel of Refreshments. Go ask him.”

“I will,” Arez said passionately, walking towards the back room.

“Just punch him,” Crow whined. “Just punch him and rip his hair out.”

“He used to be kinda nice,” Lao said, strained. “I’m sure he could be a good person. If he’d listen to me.”

“Or a therapist?” I suggested.

Lao frowned. “No, it’s definitely got to be me.”

These people are all fucked up.

The plot got even deeper when a man wearing more pink than Elle Woods[9] burst in, shouting, “WHO’S TRYING TO STEAL SMYTHE?!”

Crow pointed his thumb at Lao.

“Oh, shut up, I don’t want him,” Lao groaned, blushing. “I mean… maybe if he was nicer again…”

“ _Lao_ ,” Crow hissed.

“Right. Right, yeah, don’t want him,” Lao squeaked.

The man walked towards Lao, pink stilettos clicking dramatically. He pulled his love heart shaped sunglasses from his face to reveal black eyes. “Oh, my dear princess,” he crooned sweetly. “Dear Torao, when will you leave these angels who abuse and manipulate you? You deserve better.”

“Fuck off Luci,” Crow sighed.

“Bite me, Mathis.”

“Who is this…?” I asked.

The man, Luci, turned his attention to me. “Ah, nice to meet you, fresh angel bait. I’m Lucifer, but you can call me Luci, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Of course.” He turned back to Lao. “You don’t understand what they’re doing to you, Torao. I can give you so much better, I can give you a fraction of what you truly deserve, princess.”

Lao actually looked tempted.

Crow wrapped his arms tightly around Lao, pulling him against his chest. “Piss off Luci, leave my brother alone.”

“Mathis, you’re still not biting me.”

“MICHAEL!” Crow screamed, running towards the back room.

“Lucifer as in _Satan_?” I asked.

“The Adversary, the Devil, the Fallen, the Morningstar, yeah.” He turned back to Lao. “I can keep Arez Smythe away from you.”

“I thought you said he was one of yours,” Lao murmured.

“I mean one of my customers, but if he’s going to cheat and go to both shops, well… I’d rather have somebody reliable. Somebody who always does their best to do the right thing, not the wrong thing.” He stroked Lao’s cheek. “Somebody like you.”

“That doesn’t sound very much like me.”

“It is,” Luci insisted. “You’ve been hurt too much to see it yourself.”

Michael burst into the room, carrying Arez in one hand and Crow in the other. He looked over at the counter and dropped them. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he looked at Luci. Lao quickly backed away.

“LUCIFEEEEER!”

“Mikey,” Luci purred in response.

Michael stepped closer. “LUCIFEEEEER!”

“Mikey.”

“LUCIFEEEEEER!”

“Mikey.”

Then Michael tackled him.

“They do this every week,” Crow sighed sufferingly as the wrestling began. “I’m surprised it took you so long to see it.”

“And you people wonder why I’m so desperate to get out of this awful country,” Arez sniffed. “Lao, you’re coming too, you need saving.”

“We don’t wonder, we’re glad you’re doing it,” Crow said, monotonously.

“I _know_ you have emotions stop trying to pretend you don’t to psyche me out!”

“Don’t you two start too,” Lao groaned.

The backroom door opened again. Gabriel leant through it, holding a phone, and called, “Luci, The Father says you can come home, if you want.”

Luci and Michael both froze. Then Luci’s face contorted with disgust, and Michael’s with happiness. Michael removed Luci from the headlock and hugged him tightly, _crying_.

“Please come home Luci, we love you!”

“Fucking _kill yourself_ , Michael.”

“I LOVE YOU LUCI I KNOW YOU’RE JUST UPSET!”

Then the front door opened, and like this wasn’t already enough of a mess, in walked Kez Cooper. 

“Ah, my demonic backup!” Luci cackled. “You’re in for it now, Michael.”

Kez rolled his eyes, walked straight over to Michael and Luci, pulled Luci out from under Michael, and started dragging him off.

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” Luci shouted. “I WILL GET THE FATHER’S COFFEE RECIPES, AND THEN ALL YOUR CUSTOMERS WILL BE TEMPTED TO MY SIDE! AND YOU’LL PAY! YOU’LL ALL PAY! ESPECIALLY YOU, MICHAEL!”

“Same time tomorrow, Kez?” Gabriel asked wearily.

“Mm-hmm.”

As Kez dragged him past the counter, Luci winked at Lao and mimed a phone, mouthing ‘Call me’. But Lao wasn’t paying attention to Luci; he was staring at Kez.

“Hi Kez,” he said, waaaay too brightly.

“Hey,” Kez replied, and kept on walking/dragging.

Lao sighed longingly and explained to me, “He works next door, in _hella_., but The Father’s considering offering him a job, if he can stop over-tamping the coffee.”

Michael stood up, completely composed again. Without a word to anybody, he shoved past Gabriel and to the back room. Gabriel sighed, placed the phone against his head again and said, “You heard all that, Father? Yes. Yes, I do suppose tomorrow’s another opportunity.”

Arez marched over to the counter. “Lousy, don’t you even _think_ about it.”

“Huh?” Lao asked, still starring at Luci and Kez outside. Kez was lecturing Luci about something. He does that.

“Do _not_ marry Lucifer.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Lao replied.

“ _Good_ , cos I’m like, 84, maybe 94, per cent sure we’re soul mates.”

“We’re not.”

“I know you only say that cos you don’t believe in soul mates. Whatever you wanna call it.” Arez frowned. “Aibou? It’s aibou, right?”

“どアホウじゃないの,” Lao replied.[10]

Arez nodded serenely.

Kez and Luci walked back into _hella._ and Lao’s attention returned to normal. He looked over at Crow and asked, “Is Michael okay?”

“Michael’s impossible to hurt,” Crow dismissed. “Worry about Uriel. And Gabriel. Help me steal all the alcohol.”

Lao raised his eyebrows.

“So they don’t die of alcohol poisoning,” Crow insisted.

“This is a coffee shop, why do you need alcohol at all?” I asked.

Crow threw an arm around my shoulder. “Kid, you have no idea how stressful this job is.”

The door opened again. I was already cringing just from the sound, but thankfully, it was Nova.

“Oi, Pixie, Math, you done yet?” he asked.

“Yep,” Lao said, pulling off his apron. “Need a lift home, [REDACTED]?”

I shook my head.

“What if I do?” Arez asked.

“Lame, you always invite your damn self anyway,” Nova snorted.

“We’re neighbours,” Arez needlessly informed me.

“Yeah, you also live in a treehouse because your father hates you,” Crow said flatly.

“ _Nii-tan_ ,” Lao hissed. He turned to me with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I said.

And I will go there tomorrow. I can’t escape now. But you — you can still save yourself.

Do not _ever_ go to a coffee shop called _The Mustard Seed_ , or one next to it called _hella._ Save yourself from this bullshit.

[1] College, for those non-Tasmanians who need any explanation about Hobart’s hipster culture, is what we call grades 11 and 12. That’s just the way it is.

[2] Yes, in lowercase with a full-stop at the end, which is essential to its image.

[3] In this really cute little half-ponytail, half-bun that I would never in my wildest dreams be able to replicate, not that I’m bothered by that or anything.

[4] With Crow’s reputation for fucking literally everybody in his year at high school, it would be a mistake to call it a ‘pleasure’. It would also be a mistake given Crow’s reputation for being a soft-grunge attention-seeking waste of space.

[5] Which were decidedly _not_ cute.

[6] If Crow is soft grunge, Remy Lucas is the heaviest metal you can possibly imagine with a side of apparently smashing glasses against people’s faces. I have nightmares about these two having children.

[7] Or what my underage self has seen of them in US dramas.

[8] If Crow was as heavy metal as Remy, he’d prove it by smashing a glass against Arez’s face.

[9] Shut up, everybody loves _Legally Blonde_.

[10] I was later informed by a giggling Crow, “Lao totally shut down Smythe’s fujoshi bullshit by calling him a fuckwit.” I don’t think it’s a shutdown if the other person doesn’t understand that you’re saying.


End file.
